Life's Secrets

A factional force controlling one neighborhood in the city told all under its hand:

“You should all be tolerant and respectful of other men’s feelings and beliefs, unless the other men are someone other than yourself.”

FACT: 

Everyone enjoys being pushed around by an uncle…or a grandmother…or some other hormonally connected hit-man. 

And a loud voice injected itself right here and announced:  “Even plain-wrapped idiots who might disagree with this ‘Fact’ will still get up and dance that weird Boog-a-loo whenever the reed section begins to sing, ‘Oh you can’t get away from DNA; Oh you can’t get away unless you WANT-T-T to.’”

Our mailman makes this request:

“Please do not write to here and say that you ‘don’t understand’ some particular news item.  If your motivation is the fact that you don’t understand it!  Please, ladies and gentle – please, do not.  Thank you.”

The ole city Wise-man-in-the-park, pulled his blankets a wee bit tighter around him and said:

“Life has hidden many secrets – but it didn’t hide ‘em REAL hard.”

Interesting Aspect of Prevailing Socio-Politico Dynamics:

Kings only award pensions to DEAD satirists.

J.

Up To Speed

Just before the salad, a young girl sitting left of the king said:

“Though my mind is my own – my ass belongs to daddy.”

And the Duchess noted:

“Aren’t children sweet at that age – when they don’t know anything?”

And the Baron next to her, (as he reached for the salt), asked:

“And at what age is that, My Lady?”

And she replied:  “Well…well…well…you know.”

The people in the basement decided:  “Let us enjoy the baser pleasures while we may!  For who knows what uncertainties the installation of elevators may bring.”

One man says that while he was out foolin’ around in his backyard, he “thinks” he may have slipped and fell in the septic tank.  (But he says the way his mind’s been going lately – it’s really hard to be sure.)

Another “Good News Example of Civilization Being, ‘Up to Speed (by god)’ and then some”:  Instead of a dictionary, one man began to consult the yellow pages.

A man asked his garage:  “What I don’t understand is how can almost EVERY thing can be contagious except intelligence?!”

 J.

The Eternal Ferry Boat

Once you understand that, comparably, the secondary world is “made up,” there’s then little left to rile you as regards man’s various pretentions therein.

Near a bus stop, a man bent down and said to a pigeon:

“To say that some aspect of man’s intellectual world are ‘imaginary’ is like saying shit stinks.” 
And the bird said, “Right on, bro!”

And from the Bunsen and Hedges Burner secret lab comes this hot fresh item of “Sub-Atomic Facts From A Science Not Yet Extant”:  It is actually impossible to commit suicide in a closed system, inasmuch as everything is going to each – one way or the other.  (“Quick, someone call Doctor Nobel, and when he answers say:  ‘What the hell?!’”)

A kid and an ole man were talking and the latter said:
“A book with a sufficiently long introduction need never be writ.” 

And the former inquired:
“And what kind of book might that be, Pa Pa?”

And the ole man replied:
The book of secondary life, my boy.”

And thus is yet another story brought to a satisfying conclusion, and safely docked at the pier; careful as you off-board.  (“Ah, life,” sighed the Moral.  “The Eternal Ferry Boat – Back And Forth, Back And Forth; such a pleasant journey – forever going nowhere.  Ah, life,” it sighed.)  Hey! Watch it!

J.

Expiration Date

While the daughter was packing her neural valise to leave for the civil-wilds, her mother sat on the bed and said:  “The best advice I can give you is never sleep with anyone as ugly as you are, don’t dine with the gluttonous, and never dance with anyone dumb enough to be your own kin.”

The label read:

“If advice had an ‘expiration date’
we’d all be expired.

For his “Brain Birthday” one man gave himself a choice of two gifts:

Either think some entirely “new thoughts” – or,
spend the night in a locked refrigerator.

Question: If they could, would kings be poets?

Answer:  Yes, if they could still be king along with it.

(Once you understand this, you’ll realize why art is always so popular amongst the powerful; why it is so despised; why it sticks its tongue out toward the city, and has one in return stuck back.  Comprehending this might also save you the trouble of ever trying to talk “creativity” to a banker, a bureaucrat, or any other philistine who might reside in your head.)

Moral:

In the backyard – alone – EVERYONE is Demosthenes – (except Demosthenes, who’s reduced to crying out:  “Who then am I?!”)

And a fan writes The News, asking:

“Where did all this start?  And how in the world did it end up here?”

J.

A Man with a Yo-Yo

A Dialogue from Somewhere:

“I notice you never talk about religion, sex, or politics.”

“There’s nothing there worth talking about.”

“I disagree.”

“Okay, I’ll put it like this:  There’s nothing there worth talking about unless you THINK there is, and if you do – you aren’t worth talking to.”

At times of extreme duress, the apparent helplessness of man in the secondary world gave birth to the concepts of ritual, prayer and sacrifice.

A reader writes to us:

“My Good Sir, (and Madam):  I must disagree with what you’ve said about ‘self-reference,’ for indeed, (good people), if a man does NOT refer to himself – who will?!  (I assume you see my point.)  Yours, etc.”

A man with a yo-yo says:  “There is one thing for which you must credit the dense; they in no wise begrudge you joining them.”  (Hey-y-y…was that just you or someone disguised as a man with a yo-yo?!)

J.

Man's "Prison"

Then, (from the Neo-Academy, and Scorched-Earth Elysian Fields) came:

Man’s “prison” is one of his own making, and his key to freedom is also the chains that bind him – (notwithstanding the fact that he ain’t in prison, to begin with).

One chap, after many faithful and interesting years of educational pursuits in the city, came to a personal conclusion that, amongst the collective; “An academic degree is like being given a hole with a nice border painted around it.”

A chap sitting at a nearby table leaned over to muse:  “You know, when you’re dense in conversation, with being given to allegory – EVERY thing can sound like a metaphor for your mind.”

By saying one thing and meaning possible others, the secondary world of man blindly expands; by saying one thing and purposefully meaning more, so does the rebel’s – knowingly.  (Thus, in truth:  a revolutionist mind does not merely “play with words,” but rather uses them to continually create and re-create himself.)

During autopsy class the Professor of Anatomy noted to his class, (as he poked about in an open skull):  “You can always recognize the brain of a neural revolutionist by the fact that it will either be covered in skid marks, or it’ll have no ‘shoulder-of-the-road.’”

J.

Taking Sides

Today’s “Morality Play” consists in part, of the following scene:

To help preserve his balance, and his good name, when his right ear became deaf, this one man sent his left one off to stay with his mother.

And that ole sportscaster called it like this:

To be “on a side”
is to be on a losing side.

Just for his own personal devices, one man secretly came to decide:

“Forget philosophy and religion; the one telling distinction in life is that between the animate and the in.”

As he sat out in the woods, near the edge of “no longer being a kid,” a kid thought:

“I wonder…I wonder if a part of the true secret to being creative is to have-the-ability, and in addition, not care whatsoever if anyone else ever knows it?!”  (His reflection in a robin’s eyes told the whole story.)

And one of the door-to-ceiling salesmen knocked at yours and inquired:

“A curious thing – well, okay not so much curious as it is neat and efficient – one curious and neat thing about life, in the secondary world, is that a man with a broken watch will oftimes run faster.”  (What?  You don’t find it all that neat?!  Okay, just go tell a rhinoceros or a cow about it and see how THEY react!)

J.

Cheap Shoes

A local citizen writes to Mr City:

“Okay then, if everybody does know what’s ‘really going on’ – how come nobody ever talks about it?!”

And Mr C. replies”

“What – and ruin all the fun for everybody else!”

With no prior warning, the Professor of “History Its Primary And Secondary Aspects” gave his morning class a verbal quiz and selecting one student asked him:  “Other than hormones; what is the principal cause of history?”  And from alert young voices all OVER the school came the happy cry of the correct answer.

One city said: “Once you start to talk to me – never stop.”

(So too do hearts forever want to beat and blood forever flow.)

During the ten o’clock session of one kindergarten, the teacher presented the youngsters with this:  “Another Unknown Question, which if people ever thought to ask, (much less ever got around to actually answering), could spread mucho surprising light on the Relationship between a man’s individual mental receptacle, and the collective educational machinery that attempts to fill it.”  After arousing the nippers, who’d slumbered off during the reading of the title of his piece, he then delivered directly this, in the form of the following rhetorical question:  Can wearing “cheap shoes” cause you to have “cheap feet”?

“A Nautical, Cosmic Myth”:

The cruise lines on this one world have but one rule for all captains: they may not ask any questions of the passengers.  (That tour guide with the sore lips from the last time, sticks his head back in to add:  “No religions have ever been started on less – NONE!”)

J.

Secret Protocol

The Professor of “Medical Topography, Aspects, Primary And Secondary,” gave his class an unscheduled, verbal quiz.  Asked he of one student, in an unscheduled manner:
“What is the most prevailing cause of human illness?”

And the matriculant asked:  “Do you mean other than hormones?”

“Yes,” replied the professor.

“Seriousness,” answered the student.

(And the whole class smiled sillily.)

Someone, name of, Marjorie Culhane, faxed us to say that once she gets a lobby – we’re sure-e-e gonna hear from her!  (And somewhere – far, far away – “Metaphysical consequences” scoffs and makes some kind of unknown gesture.)

In jail:  The only place the ordinary can breathe.

Post-Contemporary Political Secret Protocol:
The lobby that represents man
also represents somebody else.

“Warning – Warning – Warning on the flight deck; Warning on the bridge; Warning down in the hold:  LIFE doesn’t LIKE a squealer!  Okay, okay – settle down, time for the ‘REAL Warning.’  LIFE doesn’t CARE! – Viola – Boom, Bam, Crash-And-Burn, ya’ll.”

J.

Crackerjacks

Most Disgusting, Sickening Rumor of The Year:

One man secretly wanted to become a spiritual teacher just so he could talk about certain personal matters in his own life, in a camouflaged context.  (Ugh!)

And in your box of crackerjacks was this:

“Secret Proverb You Could Secretly Live By – (Hey, who’d know?!)”:

Friendship amongst the blind is not conducive to them collectively ever being the recipients of complimentary passes to the opera.  (Careful not to bite down on that renegade peanut with your eye teeth.)

A man whines to the Advice Doctor:
“But I was BORN like I am – how can I ever do anything about it?!”

And the Doctor replied: “You can’t.”
(And muttered in an aside to you:  “He shouldn’t have whined about it!”)

A rebel doesn’t work for salary –
he does what he does
because he wants to.

Some neurons who hear that last one thought:
“Supreme-inspiration in fifteen words or less.”

J.

A Cautionary Tale

Later that same afternoon, once the man and Clarence had both regained their normal body warmth and routine mental stability, the man made this additional observation to his feline pal.  From a particular position he sometimes neutrally assumed, he said, “You know, old chum, the difficulty in mortal life of divining the difference between folly and the truth, is that there is none.”

A Cautionary Tale:

When it became evident that the kingdom would soon be under attack by the combined forces of hair dressers and interior decorators, the King, being an up-to-date, “with-it” kinda guy, made the politically correct move of telling his Defense Minister; “Arm our poets!”  And his minister cautioned, “My Lord, I wouldn’t do that.”  His Grace repeated his instructions, only to be similarly rebuffed again by his advisor.  So his Majesty finally asked:  “And under these unusual conditions, why should we NOT give poets guns?”  And the Defense Minister finally replied point blank, “Because, Sire, even beyond your vast knowledge and experience – artists are crazier than even YOU suspect.”  (“Oh,” sighed His Suddenly Enlightened One.)

Amidst their continuing discussions regarding “humans,” a certain ole man told the kid: “There are two kinds of ‘hip,’ those that appear to be, and those who don’t let on.”

Whenever this one local reality would “go out of town,” (assuming such is possible), it’d always think,  “Wow – things are really looking up.”

You Philosophy and Theological students might herein care to note and discover the reason why religions and fresh dairy products do not “travel well.”  And just to be fair, I should mention that several major cities and civilizations immediately spoke up to say:  “One of the two travels QUITE well enough for us, thank you.”

J.

The Last of the Big Time Spenders

During a momentary lull in the, (shall we say “activities”), the fellow thought: “Trying to hide – much less control – your feelings is like carrying a deranged weasel around in the pocket of someone else’s trousers.”

The Professor of Political Science, Aspects, Primary And Secondary, gave a pop verbal quiz to the class, (quizzed he to one student):  “What is the major cause of wars?” 
And the pupil replied:  “You mean besides hormones?” 
“Yes, yes,” responded the instructor. 
And the student then said:  “Believing that others are serious about what they do.” 
(And the entire class arose and repeated:  “Yes indeed!”)

Tuesday’s “Goober Tale”:

One man’s mind said, “I don’t know which one I enjoy most, me trying to think, or you trying to do it for me.”

Once he was convinced that the party he’d randomly dialed was NOT going to purchase any of his penny stock, the telephone solicitor gave them this free statement:  “Further proof that man is the measure of reality: the weather is irrelevant unless you’re alive.”  (He then hung up and went on to the next chance combination of numbers.)

LIFE is the last of the “big time spenders”.

J.

Which Came First?

Then, standing just outside his recently refurbished tomb, the spirit of Grant read today’s Bonus Question:  “Which came first, reincarnation, or the merry go round?”

Suddenly – standing up alone in his room, a man declared aloud:
“I’ve got it – I see – being-with-somebody-else is just like being-by-yourself, except someone else is with you.”  The station manager barked out to a programmer:  “I guess we can cancel that Marriage Counselor’s show!”

Near the fifty-six hour mark, a man thought:
“The trouble with getting high from rebel thinking is how cheap it makes other drugs seem, and how costly it makes them become.”

More “News That’s True – But Hidden – In the Secondary World”:

Men can’t seem to invent “perpetual motion” machines because they IS one.

A reader notes:

“That is the very kind of thing you so often say, that as soon as I hear it I think:  ‘My god – how true!’  But then think:  ‘But even if it is so – what’s the significance?!”

My Dear Reader:

Not by a “hardly” – in fact, if you will but consider what you’ve said just a mite further, does it not begin to smell of operations capable of infinitely sustaining themselves.

 J.

Who Are A Rebel's Friends

One rebel had a secret ploy he plied:  he wouldn’t have any fun unless his buds did too.

Deep in his heart-of-hearts, a viewer had it in his mind to some day write and ask, “Just who are a rebel’s friends?”

“Little Known Legend Among Certain Deities”:

The concept of, “anthropomorphization” is what first gave god the idea of creating man.

Shortly after he was born, and local reality recognized his unusual qualities and potential, it said to the lad:  “Due to your ‘special nature,’ once you are mature you shall have your choice.  You may either have mold up around your skylights, or else in your shower.”

Coda:

People who want to be “extraordinary” generally either fail, or get it wrong.

J.

An Earthquake is Forever

Inside of the Anniversary Ring local reality gave his wife, was the inscription:  “An earthquake is forever.”

The king announced a competition to find the “Worst Speller in the Kingdom,” but everyone was afraid to try TOO hard, lest his Grace had it in mind for his brother or somebody to win.

Conversation – Late Breaking Sensation:

“A quiet man is a happy man.”

“What if he’s not?”

“Well, at least you won’t know about it.”

U.Q.T.A. – (Unilateral Quiz Time Again):

What is the difference between a compost heap and an artist’s studio?

Pleading for “mercy,” (even secretly so), does only one thing:  It fattens up the obesity cells of the illusionary, “Mercy God.”

J.

Work Piles Up

For extraordinary individual purposes, anything that large numbers of people think or believe is useless – even if it wasn’t so originally.

Work piles-up on those who provide a neural dumping-ground.

And the rising sun declared:

“Every day is a new day – except, for you people in the cemetery, and those of you dead on your feet.”

One man attempted to explain his problematic position by saying:

“I THINK I may have accepted some gibberish before its time!”

In the secondary world, when “things come apart,” they REALLY come apart – which is how they can so readily re-group and re-compose themselves again and again.

J.

Brain Sweat

Someone writes to The News:

     “It takes SOME NERVE for you to talk about institutions and men’s personalities as being almost ‘non-existent,’ when this neural Revolutionist thing of yours has GOT to be the absolute height of an incorporeal activity.” 

And the reply, (no doubt): 
Dear Reader: “Thank you so much for your most complimentary words.”

One mentally creative guy, just to himself, served up this “picture-definition and description”:

The Ultimate Secret:  A blank, beige wall, right in front of your eyes, dripping with blood and joys.

Only FRESH info is sufficiently silly for a rebel’s outstanding purposes.

And somewhere a man thinks:
“All of this makes my brain sweat.”

Just for their own private use, there are these two rebels who have this definition betwixt ‘em:

The Revolution:  Shock therapy for hormones.

J.

Dumb and Dumber

Even while the ordinary conceive of life, as a ship that is going to sink, they yet cannot imagine a sane man consulting with the seas.  There is an equation that holds the key, and those who do not realize themselves a factor therein, forever remain confused.  It is magic, but it is available to those who can hear, and those who can hear can eventually DO.

And as the secondary stood by, absolutely horrified, this was revealed:
There is no “question” of anything until there is the ability TO question.

There is no freedom in the primary world, and only illusionary freedom in the secondary…which, is okay, inasmuch as…(ellipses, over-and-out, and onward)!

A Revolutionist
 is a tricycle
with at least
four wheels.

“Q. and A. – Q. and A. – Q. and A.”:

What is dumber than being dumb?
Becoming a bit less so, and mentioning how you deserve all the credit.

J.

Envy

As trains pass through tunnels, many passengers will cry out:
“Oh conductor – conductor, does it always get dark so soon here?’
(Choo-choo, ya’ll.)

And from the den, another “Death Defying Definition” – what ho, Alonzo:

Envy:  Hormones at their MOST pretentious.

As they walked to the market a kid asked the ole man:
“If everyone didn’t play along with the game of serious-acting people being accepted as ‘intelligent’ people, would anyone want to BE serious?”  (And the ole man smiled, and kept a’walkin.)

And another “picture-example” of how the mind usually operates, while at least hinting at additional possibilities:  At field-level, the game is defined by the two opposing teams engaged therein.  The action seems inseparable from the purpose – and in fact may be the purpose.  Someone from out-of-town, (so to speak), up in a sky seat, (so to speak), might, however, get a different take on the afternoon’s activities.

Even without the trappings of court – men remain toadies to themselves.

J.

With No Extensive Set-Up

And with no extensive “set-up”:

Far away, a grizzled old guru told a young neophyte, “Having ills can keep a man on his toes.”  And the lad replied, “Not if it’s frostbite to the feet.” 
And the elderly one leaned closer and asked, “I say, do you take students?” 
And SUDDENLY, the mountains shook and the heavens trembled, as Shangrila attempted to reveal itself, and the eagle and the wolves, the sheep and the chipmunks together, as one choir, began to sing: “Oh, a silly man is an insightful man, just not on this planet he ain’t – ohhh!”

A man writes the Advice Doctor:   “Do dreams mean anything?”

And the Doctor replied:  “Are you nuts?!”

An observer observes:

“It doesn’t seem so difficult to me to spot the primary characteristics in most people, but identifying secondary ones can sure be a lot messier – (if you’re wearing your good clothes).”

Then, falling back momentarily into the impish grip of the Demon of definitions, to wit:

Man’s Collective, Intellectual World:  The only place you can “go broke,” spending someone else’s money.

In what one man perceived to be the continuing struggle of his own primary and secondary worlds, once he’d reached a certain age, instead of having his face lifted he had his brain lowered.  (Efficiency – ya’ll!)

J.